Double or Nothing
by FallingFree10
Summary: SEQUEL TO MY OTHER HALF/YOU NEED A HEART TO SURVIVE  Avril is framed for a crime she didn't commit and Sherlock has to prove her innocence. However, Sherlock becomes unable to help and so it's left down to Avril's flatmate, Eleanor, to solve the case.S/A
1. Chapter 1: Lauren

**HEY! So here it is, the much awaited sequel to My Other Half... DOUBLE OR NOTHING! Avril (Or is she actually called that?) is framed and we learn about her MP Sister. That's all you're getting for now :)**

Chapter 1: Lauren

Avril stared at the Man across the room from her. He was nodding, biting his lip and looking back at her intently. "Yup, that's her. Definitely her." He claimed firmly. Avril's eyes narrowed as she looked over her shoulder at the two men sitting in the rows above her. One man's eyes were equally narrowed as he pulled away one black curl from his face. Looking back at the Judge, she noticed his baffled expression.

"We appear to have a witness that is certain that Miss Swan is the criminal, and yet we have a perfectly good alibi!" Frustrated was evident in the Judge's tone. Avril's lawyer turned to the Witness.

"Are you sure it was Miss Swan? There are lots of people in London that have similar hair."

"I saw her face."

"The face of this woman?" The lawyer gestured to a furious Avril.

"Yes."

His word pretty much condemned her; she knew that before he had even finished saying it. Her finger nails were digging into her palm, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from lashing out about the man's activities last night.

"Jury?" Asked the Judge, his head twisting to the Jury. Their spokesman stood, looking grave but very excited.

"Guilty."

Avril looked her up and down as the Judge gave her her sentence of fifteen years. She figured she was going to prison anyway so she might as well have her last minutes of fun.

"Having an affair with... Her coll- no her boss, her shampoo's too expensive for a colleague. She's in a happy marriage but just wants excitement, it would seem. Her excuses are... Meetings and work dinners, pen marks have been deliberately put on her arm and the remainders of crumbs supposedly from her work meal are still on her suit. In fact she's meeting her boss tonight, her attire is not because of a formal court session but because she's going out on a "date" and hasn't got time to change afterwards."

Avril looked around at the silent court room.

"Oops. Did I just say that out loud?"

* * *

><p>Sherlock strode, his coat billowing behind him, away from the courtroom with John at his side. John was ranting about Avril's sentence over the phone to Avril's flatmate Eleanor, who had been unable to come to the court hearing. Sherlock ignored him, too busy thinking about the morning two days ago.<p>

_Lestrade came bounding up the stairs, two steps at a time, and arrived at Sherlock's door. Sherlock looked at him, frowning. "What do you want?" He asked, guessing it wasn't a case. Lestrade scratched his forehead and avoided Sherlock's eyes. "Well, I need to see L-um, Avril." He said awkwardly. Avril, who was looking at the toes I had kept in the fridge, came round to the door. "Yup?" She asked, tying her hair back into a ponytail. Lestrade pressed a button on his phone and about half a minute later, six police officers were standing behind him. They had several types of guns hanging off their necks and they seemed to pointing at her. She stared at the guns, her eyes wide with alarm. "Er... Ok..." She said slowly, trying to process the threat in front of her. Lestrade randomly nodded, and the police officers surrounded Avril, securing Avril in their grip and making sure she couldn't walk away. "Lestrade," she took a small breath, "why are you arresting me?" Lestrade ignored her and continued to say "Lauren Swan, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder. You have the right to remain silent and anything say can and will be used against you in a court of law."_

_Avril gaped at him. "W-what did you j-just call me?" She stuttered, staring._

_Lestrade moved out of the way of the door. "Take her away." She made no effort to break away; she didn't refuse to come. John and Sherlock stood there, shocked._

* * *

><p><strong>So, thoughts? I will not have you worrying; the reason for Avril changing her name shall be revealed! And we will, in a few chapters, have a bit of Avril's sister coming along.<strong>

**It would be absolutely lovely if you were to click a button saying, I believe, _Review_.**

**And yeah, I'm being posh.**

**Fallingx**


	2. Chapter 2: A Visit in Prison

**Hi guys... Sorry for the wait D: And also, sorry if there are any bits with "my" or "me" or "I" which might make you think it's suddenly gone to First Person. I started to writing it in Avril/Lauren's POV and then realised that the last chapter was in Third Person. I know. I'm clever.**

**Anyway, in this chapter Sherlock visits Avril/Lauren (I'm going to call her Lauren from now on :D Well, in this chapter, she's Avril, but next SHE WILL BE LAUREN. :)) in prison. Enjoy :) **

Chapter 2: The Visit

"Why?"

Avril knew what he was asking straight away. She gave a slight pause before she answered. "I have my reasons," She replied, hesitantly.

"And they are?" Sherlock inquired. His stare was cold and demanding. She almost winced as she searched the anger welling up inside him.

"I was being..." Avril searched for the word. Followed? Hunted? "... Hunted." She finished. Her fingers fiddled with the sleeve of her jacket. The material felt almost smooth against her rough skin. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Hunted?" He repeated. "By who?" She remained silent; he sighed irritably. "Why won't you tell me?"

"I don't know who he was." Avril muttered. He scoffed and leant back in his chair. She glared at him, making her close to him again. "I didn't! She had no idea who he was! He just didn't like my work!" Avril retorted. She rubbed her heavy eye lids. "He was tracking me down. I had to run away!"

Sherlock laughed bitterly, turning his head away from her. "Like a coward," he murmured, but loud enough for her to hear. And yes, she didn't like this.

"Yeah, but look at it this way. If I had been killed, then you would be dead too." She reasoned. He opened his mouth to argue. "Why-"

"Moriarty." She reminded him quickly. He glowered at me with a look that said "I hate it when you're right". Her lips cracked into a smile. She loved being right.

There was a small silence. "How's the case going, then?" Avril asked eventually. Sherlock looked down at his lap, guilt evident on his features. "... Sherlock?" No reply. Avril's mouth hung open and she leaned back in her chair. "You're kidding me. You haven't even _started_?" She half-yelled. _What had he been doing all this time? _She thought furiously.

"Of course we've started! We're just getting absolutely nowhere. And it's only John and me, which makes it even more difficult. I hate to admit it, but Anderson's pointless comments can sometimes have a meaning. Of sorts." He hadn't looked at her for a second of the time he was talking. She sighed, running a dry hand through her hair. She almost missed the soft tenderness of each strand.

Staring down at her crossed legs (quite uncomfortable, crossed legs on a chair, but she didn't care), her vision started to become blurry. Her throat started to hurt and her eyes stung. She felt something hot and wet trickle down her cheek. She looked up at Sherlock through the blur, looked at his hair, his eyes. Those cold, cold eyes, now alive with confusion. "Don't make me stay here any longer, Sherlock." I whispered, my voice feeling weak and sore.

I saw an expression on Sherlock's face I had never seen before. Concern. When he opened his mouth, his voice was soft and soothing. It was amazing how Sherlock could change when someone he remotely liked was upset.

"I won't."

**Hope you enjoyed it :) Sorry about 1) The length (it seems longer when I first type it in Word ):) and 2) the quite OOC Sherlock towards the end, but if you'll see how Sherlock's gradually becoming less cold. And in **_**Hound of Baskerville**_**, he seems a little concerned about John after John's had the whole experience with the Hound in the lab... Proof :D Plus, he is actually supposed to be in love with her, he just doesn't know how to respond to it so that's why he treats her like a friend. In case you didn't get that before. :) Anywaz, reviews please :) And that's with cherries. Unless you don't like cherries. I don't. D: **

**DOWN WITH THE CHERRIES.**

**Falling :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Investigating

Chapter 3: Investigating

CRASH.

"_Sherlock_!" John whispered irritably. "What was that?"

"I... don't know," Was the reply. John sighed and crept up the steps to the first floor. He searched in the darkness with his arms out-stretched. He lost his footing and felt the air rush past him as he fell forward. He was about to hit the floor, when two strong hands caught his arms and lifted him up. "Careful." Sherlock muttered, as John brushed his hair from his face. "Thanks." He breathed.

The corner of Sherlock's mouth twitched up. John scowled at Sherlock's triumphant smile. "So what are we looking for? Sherlock?" He asked, peering through the darkness. He felt his way over a wall and leaned on it, resting his hurt back.

"Hm? Oh, I, um, don't know."

"You don't know."

"Not really."

"Well, that's useful."

"Just general clues. Close acquaintances."

John sighed, standing properly and searching the room. "Well, here's a photograph, and she's with a man. Boyfriend?" He wondered. Sherlock leapt over, grabbing the frame from John's grasp. Sherlock's eyes flickered over it quickly, bouncing between each person. "There's lipstick left over on his lips so yeah." He said. John smiled slightly. He placed the photo back on the shelf. "So... is he a suspect?" He asked.

"No. He was stabbed two months ago." Sherlock said. John opened his mouth, but suddenly a book came flying at him. He ducked, his arms automatically shielding his head. He straightened up again, smoothing out his crumpled shirt and shooting a glare at Sherlock. "You could just give it to me rather than trying to knock me out." He muttered, leaning down and picking the book up.

_My Diary._

_LOOK AND YOU'LL BE MURDERED._

He raised his eyebrows at the diary, before opening it.

_17 June 2012_

_Today I decided to get a diary. Cat has one, so I thought, why not?_

John skipped to the next entry, written on the 20th of June.

_God, Tom was so irritating earlier. He started teasing me about the fact that I have a spot on my forehead, and I was just like, "Shut up!" And he started laughing loads. So I got really pissed off, and slapped him, and then he got really angry and told my boss! _

John snapped the book shut, and stared at Sherlock.

"What was this for?"

"Third of July." Sherlock answered simply. John looked back to the book, his brow furrowed. Flicking through the pages once again, he found the Third of July and started to read.

_3__rd__ of July_

_I may not be writing here anymore, because I'm going through a bit of an emotional struggle. You see... Um... Nick's dead. He was found outside his place and he'd been stabbed. I don't think I can write anymore. He was going to propose to me, I had been so excited and now_

John turned over the page. Blank. "It just stops." He said, looking over his shoulder at Sherlock. Sherlock shrugged in reply.

"Maybe she couldn't take it." He suggested. "The pain." John closed the book again, cocking his head at Sherlock.

"You sound like it's familiar to you. Pain." No answer came from Sherlock, so he continued to look around some more. Stifling a yawn, he rubbed his sore eyelids. It was three o'clock in the morning, and John was exhausted.

"Why are we even here? What is this girl's relationship to the victim?" He asked, giving a confused gesture with his arms. Silence from Sherlock. John sighed irritably, putting the book down on a table. "Sherlock? Are you going to answer me, or do I-"

"She _is _the victim, John." He interrupted, giving John a strange look.

"Well, I'm sorry." John snapped, his tone sarcastic. "It's three in the morning, for God's sake!" He walked over to a door that he could just make out, and attempted to open it. Locked. He shrugged, going over to the girl's chest of drawers. He ran his hand along the wood as he pulled out one of the drawers.

"Your point is?" Sherlock asked, oblivious to the tiredom in John's voice. Sherlock made his way over to the same door John had stopped by a few minutes before, and also attempted to open it. After a few tries of turning the handle, he lifted his leg up and launched a kick at the door. It burst open, and Sherlock calmly walked in.

John stared in disbelief. "Sherlock!" He whispered roughly. "You can't go kicking people's doors down!"

"It was just a bathroom door." Sherlock protested, fiddling for the light switch. His fingers came into contact with a smooth plastic, and he pressed down. The light sprang up, flickering every so often as he searched the bathroom. John finally joined him, just as Sherlock dropped into a sudden crouch. John bent down slowly, trying to follow Sherlock's gaze. It wasn't hard.

There were three drops, varying in size, of blood, drying on the tiled floor. Sherlock moved his head so he could inspect them at different angles. "What's that supposed to mean?" John asked, clearly confused.

"It's not simply a cut. This person's either seriously wounded themself, or they were carrying something dripping in blood, most likely the latter. And then-" Sherlock leapt back up, striding over to the sink, "-there are light red stains, blood mixed with water, which suggests someone was trying to wash blood of something, probably their hands."

"So you're saying the victim did it?"

"What? No! I'm saying, the killer came here straight after killing her."

"Oh. I see." John said, feeling stupid. "What now, then?"

Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing in a number. "Now, we call a forensics team and tell them we may have a new lead. The killer was rubbing the blood of their hands; the friction could have removed something else from his hands. Tiny flakes of skin maybe?"

"But they're not working on this case," John reminded him, "so they probably won't pay any attention to it."

Sherlock shook his head, holding the phone up to his ear. "Lestrade wants Av- Lauren to be freed as well. He knows how useful she can be." He started to pace the bathroom, then took to walking in circles around the crimson spots. "Lestrade?" He asked, his head perking up.

"I think we may have a new lead."

**Hope you liked it :D REVIEW. NOW. OR I WON'T GIVE YOU A COOKIE. And who doesn't like cookies...?**


	4. Chapter 4: FIGHT! FIGHT!

Chapter 4: FIGHT! FIGHT!

Lauren Swan lay curled up on her dirty bed. Her bed was on the top of a bunk bed, and she often spent her time just lying. She picked at the covers, half listening to the arguments and idle chatter in the cell she shared a group of other women with, half listening to her own thoughts. What was Sherlock doing at this very moment? Was he working on her case? Was he still angry at her for not telling him properly about the whole name change? Will they ever find the killer? Hell, this was Sherlock. Of course he'll find the killer. Right?

"You've got a gun?" Someone gasped. Lauren's ears twitched as she twisted her head round to see this gun. A woman, a little older that Lauren, with dark skin and braided hair, was holding up a pistol. Lauren lost her interest in the sight almost straight away, but she kept listening.

"Yeah. I had to sneak it in. Look at it; it's a beauty. CZ-99."

"FP-45 Liberator." Lauren corrected them from her place on her bed. She was staring at the ceiling, but she could still feel every eye in the room stare at her. "It's a FP-45 Liberator," Lauren repeated, after a brief silence.

"Excuse me?" Came that same deep Central-Londoner accent. "Did you just contradict me?" Lauren heard footsteps, and knew that the owner was approaching her.

"Yep." Lauren confirmed, brushing some hair from her face.

"No one contradicts me. _No one_."

"I'm pretty sure I just did." Lauren sat up and turned to face this woman. She was lank but had very full lips. A frown was carved into her features. Lauren saw the woman raise her arm and point the gun at Lauren's head. Lauren grinned. "Finally, some action." She hopped down from the bed, not bothering to climb down the ladder, and walked up to this woman. "Lauren Swan. Pleasure to meet you." She stuck out her hand, intending to shake this other woman's hand, but apparently the woman had other ideas.

Lauren narrowly missed the punch that was swung at her, and grabbed the attacking fist. She dropped into a crouch and twisted round. The woman, completely surprised, flipped over Lauren's head easily, her back smacking into the ground. She roared in pain as Lauren sprang up again. She smoothened her prison overalls, ignoring the gun that had flown from the now-groaning-woman's hand as she flipped.

Lauren was going back to her bed when an arm wrapped around her throat. She started to choke under the woman's grip. Lauren shifted enough to force her elbow into her attacker's stomach. She heard a gagging sound behind her and she spun round and threw final punch. There was a satisfying crunch as her fist smashed into this woman's nose. The woman crawled over to her gun and aimed it at Lauren. Lauren gave a scoff and smirked. "Fine then. Shoot me." She stood completely still, letting herself be an easy target. She started to laugh when no bullet was fired. "It's not loaded."

She placed one foot on the ladder by her bed and pushed herself up. The rest of her cellmates crowded around the woman, helping her up. A prison guard was outside the cell, shouting questions through the mini-window, but Lauren wasn't listening. She lay, once again, on her bed, her head resting on her palms. She would probably be moved for this, but she didn't particularly care. She just went over the scene in her head, mainly thinking how awesome she had looked.

**HELLO :D Did you like it..? I hope you did :) So... if you liked it review, and if you didn't like it, then review anyway :)**

**More is on it's way...**

**Falling :)**


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Well hello there.

Sorry I haven't updated in ages. I have a reason, and if you continue to read this Author's Note thing, you might find out what it is.

The reason is: There's no space left on my computer. I think there's about 1MB left. This, of course, means that there's no space to save the next chapter. I can only post this Note thing because I'm doing this on a laptop that isn't mine, and because it isn't mine, the owner is normally using it.

So I'll try and update as soon as I can, and sorry if you're kept waiting. By that I mean, waiting longer than you already have.

_Sorry_…

Falling :)


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